


Cold, with a Chance of Hugs

by hazelNuts



Series: Teen Wolf Bingo [12]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s03e07 Currents, Fluff, Graphic Depictions of Almost Dying, Hurt Boyd, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Boyd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 15:32:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5671015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelNuts/pseuds/hazelNuts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boyd doesn't die in Derek's loft. In fact, he doesn't die at all. He just needs some rest and warmth.</p><p>
  <i>It doesn’t hurt as much as he expected. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, or maybe it’s the surprise. Then Derek’s claws retract and he falls backwards. The splash he makes when he hits the water sounds distant. The water seeping into his clothes, chilling his skin, feels strange and foreign.</i>
</p><p>For Teen Wolf Bingo Prompt: Cold</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold, with a Chance of Hugs

**Author's Note:**

> If you think I forgot any tags, please let me know in the comments.

It doesn’t hurt as much as he expected. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, or maybe it’s the surprise. Then Derek’s claws retract and he falls backwards. The splash he makes when he hits the water sounds distant. The water seeping into his clothes, chilling his skin, feels strange and foreign.

Footsteps, splashing towards him.

Heartbeats stutter, stop, then start up again at double their normal pace.

The smells of blood, anger, and fear in the air.

Boyd tries to turn his head, tries to see who’s running towards him, but he can’t. All he can do is stare up at the fuzzy looking ceiling. It’s like he’s watching the world through smudgy glasses. He used to need glasses, Boyd remembers. Before. Before Derek offered him the bite, offered him a pack. Before everything went to hell in a handbasket. Before he found out that Stiles thought glasses were hot, which, right now, feels like the worst thing that’s happened in the past six months. He also remembers Erica laughing her ass off when he told her. He misses Erica.

A hand cradles his face. Someone whispers his name. Cora? He tries to focus on the heartbeat, but cotton balls have been stuffed in his ears. The person smells so much like anger. Yeah, definitely Cora. He tries to tell her that it doesn’t hurt, but he can’t make his mouth move.

‘He’s still alive.’ Cora’s astonished whisper barely reaches him through the cotton balls. ‘Derek, Boyd’s alive!’

The roars of multiple Alphas jolt Boyd’s instincts, pushing him to get up and stand beside his Alpha, to fight, but he can’t move anything. He can barely blink.

The fight sounds distant. Even the frantic heartbeat next to him barely registers. That’s not Cora’s heartbeat.

Shaking hands press down on his chest. The comforting scent of green apple and cinnamon that surround him is laced with anxiety. The last time he smelled that was earlier this morning, after saying goodbye, during a hesitant first kiss. Again, Boyd tries to move, but the fog that has been enveloping him, dulling his senses, paralyzing him, starts dragging him away from consciousness. The last thought going through Boyd’s mind is the name of the person begging him not to leave.

_Stiles._

~

The first thing Boyd registers is the cold. The second thing is that he’s no longer at the loft. It’s dark, and it smells like damp and rust. He’s not sure what he’s lying on, but it feels like a large, steel table covered with blankets. He sighs. His packmates are such idiots.

‘You could have taken me somewhere a little more sanitary than the train depot,’ he grumbles.

Several heartbeats that go erratic time, and a second later Cora, Derek and Isaac are all standing around him.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Derek chokes out. ‘I-‘

Boyd nods. He gets it. He really does. It wasn’t Derek’s fault, but that doesn’t mean Derek doesn’t need him to accept his apology.

Cora and Isaac ask him something, but Boyd’s not sure what. He’s focussed on a fourth heartbeat, coming from a little behind Derek. Boyd lifts his head, and even though his ears and nose told him that Stiles was there, he’s still surprised to find him hovering in the background with a worried expression his face. Why is Stiles here? Shouldn’t he be with Scott and Allison, preparing for… something.

‘Hey,’ Stiles says. ‘How-‘

‘Why are you here?’

Stiles stills, his face falling. From his peripheral vision, Boyd sees the other wolves looking at each other awkwardly, and then slowly retreat. Boyd’s eyes don’t leave Stiles’ face.

‘Do… you not want me here?’ Stiles asks, shuffling back a step.

‘I just-‘ Boyd jerks, trying to get up to stop Stiles from retreating. The blankets piled on top of him slide away and the cold suddenly becomes too much. His teeth chatter and a shiver runs through his body.

‘I’ll get you another blanket.’ Stiles runs off before Boyd can stop him. He’s back half a minute later, tucking another musty smelling blanket around Boyd’s body. Stiles must’ve noticed the smell too, because he pulls a face and says, ‘Sorry, that’s all we’ve got.’

Boyd’s still cold. He tries to hide it, tries to make the worried frown between Stiles’ eyebrows disappear by smiling, but it doesn’t work.

‘Are you in pain? Should I get Derek?’ Stiles asks, already walking away.

‘No. I’m-‘ Boyd doesn’t how to finish that sentence. He’s not fine, and he’s still cold, and in pain. ‘I think I need another blanket.’

‘That was the last one.’

‘You could warm me up.’ Boyd is well aware of how cheesy it is, and how completely absurd in these circumstances.

Stiles snorts. ‘Are you serious?’

Boyd doesn’t say anything. Of course he’s serious. He’s sure that having Stiles’ body wrapped around his own will heat up very quickly.

‘Okay, but, uhm, we should probably do that somewhere else, because you’re like two hundred pounds of muscle and I don’t think the table will be able to hold much more than that.’ Stiles steps closer, places his hand against Boyd’s cheek and smiles, soft and fleeting. ‘I’m gonna go ask Derek to drive us to drive us to my place.’

~

In the end, it’s Stiles who drives and Derek who sits next to Boyd to take away any pain that might flare up. Boyd’s not sure how they manage to smuggle him past the Sheriff – the man probably just ignored all the weird noises, Boyd would too if he’d lived with Scott and Stiles running around his house for years – and into Stiles’ bed.

‘You comfy?’ Stiles asks once Derek’s left, trying to clear away the worst of the mess lying around the room.

‘Still a little cold.’

Stiles’ shoulders relax and he huffs out a laugh. Carefully, doing his best not to jostle him, Stiles slides in next to Boyd. He wraps his arms and legs around Boyd like he’s a koala.

‘Still cold?’

‘I might need some time.’

‘Hmm.’

Boyd counts down from ten in his head.

‘Hey, you wanna hear how I broke my arm when I was twelve, when Scott and I went swimming?’

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://fandom-madnessess.tumblr.com/).


End file.
